


I'll be as Honest as You'll Let Me

by Diaryofanarcissisticgayman



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, American Politics, Everybody is a liar, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not that Niall would admit it, Playboy!Harry, Political Monster!Niall, The other boys will show up if people want this to turn into a full length fic, This will be angsty as shit, as in 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman/pseuds/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We have to stop meeting like this.” comes a slow, deep chuckle somewhere outside of Niall’s field of vision.</p><p>“Then stop forcing these meetings.” Niall says quietly. “Your family is being hosted across the hall Mr. Styles. I suggest you join them before everything starts.”</p><p>“So informal Niall.” Harry huffs, scooting up next to the blond until they're pressed together at the shoulders while they look down through the glass on the crowd running around to prepare things before tonight’s ceremony. “You weren’t calling me that the last time we saw each other.”</p><p>Niall knows that Harry is trying to provoke a reaction, to get him to blush or smile or anything that might acknowledge that he even remembers the events of that night. He does, with startling clarity in fact, considering the state he’d been in, but he’s better than to let it show on his face. Just because he still feels the ghosts of scratch marks down his back, the slide of Harry’s sweat-slick hips between his thighs, the tingle of the bite mark on his neck that he’d needed to cover with makeup for weeks until it had faded, doesn’t mean he’s going to let Harry know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll be as Honest as You'll Let Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this yesterday when I should have been working on other things. I have a bunch of ideas for this story, and I could expand it into a full length fic, but I'm not sure if people would actually want to read it. This is an american politics AU, so obviously a few things are going to be quite different.
> 
> Title from Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy

“We have to stop meeting like this.” comes a slow, deep chuckle somewhere outside of Niall’s field of vision.

“Then stop forcing these meetings.” Niall says quietly. “Your family is being hosted across the hall Mr. Styles. I suggest you join them before everything starts.”

“So informal Niall.” Harry huffs, scooting up next to the blond until their crisp suits are pressed together at the shoulders while they look down through the glass on the crowd running around to prepare things before tonight’s ceremony. “You weren’t calling me that the last time we saw each other.”

Niall knows that Harry is trying to provoke a reaction, to get him to blush or smile or anything that might acknowledge that he even remembers the events of that night. He does, with startling clarity in fact, considering the state he’d been in, but he’s better than to let it show on his face. You don’t get anywhere in politics if you can’t hide your emotions, and Niall is a master at it. Just because he still feels the ghosts of scratch marks down his back, the slide of Harry’s sweat-slick hips between his thighs, the tingle of the bite mark on his neck that he’d needed to cover with makeup for weeks until it had faded, doesn’t mean he’s going to let Harry know it. As far as Harry gets to know, it’s the furthest thing from Niall’s mind.

“I believe we had a deal about that night Mr. Styles.” Niall says calmly. “Something along the lines of ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell.’”

“That’s so nineteen-ninety-four.” Harry scoffs. “Besides, nobody is around to see it if you acknowledge me right now Niall. We’re safely hidden from view.”

“I have work to do Mr. Styles.” Niall tells him bluntly. “And so do you. You offer one thing to your mother’s campaign, charm. Go work it and leave me to run my father’s campaign in relative peace.”

“My sister is handling the charm today.” Harry smirks, teasing his hand lightly across Niall’s shoulders. Anyone who saw it would just think it was a friendly thing, Harry comforting Niall in a stressful time, but they both know better. It’s a sensation-for-sensation remake of that night. He’ll start at the shoulders, perfectly innocent and unassuming, but then he’ll let his hand slip back down to the bottom of Niall’s spine and press in closer under the guise of seeing whatever Niall is holding at the time, and then both of his hands will end up on Niall’s hips as many times as they can before they collapse in a boneless pile of limbs and sweat and cum, too engrossed in the taste of each other’s lips to care. “I had to reserve mine for something special. Been storing it up for weeks because I knew we’d see each other here.”

“Whatever you’re hoping for isn’t going to happen Mr. Styles.” Niall mutters, shrugging Harry’s hand off of his shoulder before the dance can really get going. “Tonight is too important to both of our parents’ campaigns to let anything interfere.”

“Tonight, one of our parents’ presidential campaigns will end Niall.” Harry replies casually. “Hell, there’s even a slight chance it could end for both of them technically. What’s the difference at this point?”

“You really don’t understand all of this, do you?” Niall sighs. “Just because a campaign ends doesn’t mean the candidate’s aspirations do. This is my father’s second go at this. Four years ago we were in the exact same position, waiting things out, and he lost the nomination, but he came right back around to try again. I’m not ruining this chance, or any future chances he may have. Not for anything.”

“In four years, when you’re right back here again, nobody is going to care what happened between us two tonight.” Harry hums. “And I understand just fine how politics are played Niall. Been around it just as long as you have.”

“In Bridges House.” Niall snorts. “You’re sitting five-hundred miles away from the den of wolves that is DC Mr. Styles. I’ve been around the game the senate plays my entire life, while you’ve been the elitist playboy partying away every night.”

“Not everyone wants that life out there Niall.” Harry shrugs. “I’m young, attractive, and wealthy. Why shouldn’t I live it up while I can?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t.” Niall scoffs. “I said that you’ve been too busy chasing pleasure to know how this really goes.”

“Is that so?” Harry smirks, sitting down on the edge of the table. “I have pictures Niall. Very, very graphic pictures. I could leak them at any time, and take you from ‘DC’s golden boy’ down to my level in an instant. Pretty sure that would ruin your father’s campaign thoroughly.”

“Bullshit.” Niall scoffs, adamantly refusing to let the panic welling up inside his chest leak out onto his features. “You’d have done it by now if you had those.”

“I was waiting until today to decide whether or not to do it.” Harry shrugs. “So far I’ve decided not to.”

“Why then?” Niall asks, slipping one hand into his pocket to clench it into a fist.

“Because you’re still wearing my necklace.” Harry muses, pointing to the gifted silver paper-airplane dangling under Niall’s shirt. It was the one thing of that night he’d allowed himself, the one reprieve from all the pressures of this bloody campaign. He’s been unable to bring himself to remove it since Harry clasped it around his neck, whispering drunken promises in Niall’s ear as they both came down from their highs. “I’ve had it since I was a teenager. I recognize the imprint it leaves on a shirt from the inside. I made up my mind when I saw you last that if you still had it on then I’d give you mercy.”

“The ballots have been cast Mr. Styles.” Niall mutters, turning his back on the brunet to glance at the time and his itinerary, though he has that memorized as he’d spent three days perfecting it. “Even if you did leak the photos now, nothing would change for tonight, and then my father would either be the official candidate for the Democratic Party, or he wouldn’t. Your mother’s campaign couldn’t benefit from that leak anymore.”

“Niall, you know as well as I do that this game doesn’t end tonight, no matter who wins.” Harry chuckles. “Whether it’s for my mother or not, this would drag your father’s reputation into the gutter. You could resign as his Chief of Staff, yes, but he’d have to choose between having you on the trail or not if he gets picked, which wouldn’t play well either way he did it. Either people would see him as an unsupportive father, or they’d see him as condoning sexual deviancy. People are incredibly predictable that way.

“Your father plays his role well. Bobby Horan is a man of the people. He’s the personification of the American dream. First generation American, built his career supporting labor, was elected without ever having been to college because he was a working man from Boston who only ran for a senate seat because he wanted to bring attention to the common man’s plight. The problem with all of that, with this image that he’s built, is that people expect him to be like them, and if they disapprove of something, they expect him to as well. He’d be caught between a rock and a hard place with no hopes of winning. Don’t play ignorant with me just because you think that’s what I am. I’ve got you and you know it.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Niall asks. “Do you want me to tell all this to my father? Get him to drop the campaign? I won’t. I’ll just resign as his Chief of Staff and apologize for the mistakes I’ve made before it can get widespread. I’ll tell people how I didn’t know I was being photographed, because, fuck you, I didn’t, and that I had a reasonable expectation of privacy and was betrayed by someone I shouldn’t have trusted in the first place. That’s all assuming that you don’t make an appearance in the photos of course, which I’m guessing you don’t because that would destroy your mother’s campaign as well. So you might as well leak them Harry. You have no reason not to.”

“I have every reason not to.” Harry hums. “For one thing, I care about you, and I think you care about me too.”

“I don’t.” Niall lies through his fucking teeth.

“Then why did you start calling me Harry again?” he asks. “Why did you keep the necklace?”

“You can have it back.” Niall huffs, reaching back to undo the clasp.

“No.” Harry says, leaping off the table and crowding Niall up against a wall in an instant. “I want you to keep it on. I meant everything I said to you that night Niall. It doesn’t matter to me that you snuck out before I woke up. I want you, and that hasn’t changed.”

“We were drunk Harry.” Niall mumbles, pushing down the warmth in his chest at having Harry so close to him that the air they’re breathing tickles across each other’s lips. “It was a mistake.”

“Not to me.” Harry murmurs. “And you wouldn’t have kept this on if you really thought it was.”

He reaches up, slides his fingers over the fabric encasing his necklace on Niall’s chest. “It wasn’t a mistake Niall.” Harry whispers. “We both know it. It wouldn’t have felt so right if it were. If this was really just a mistake, then I would be able to shake you out of my head instead of thinking about you literally all the time. We- We fit.”

“Harry, don’t do this.” Niall pleads, letting his desperation bubble to the surface. “Just don’t. We can’t.”

“Why not?” Harry questions, locking eyes with Niall so hard that it feels like he can actually see beneath the surface. Like he can see behind the carefully crafted mask that Niall has spent years perfecting. Niall knows that he can’t though. Nobody can.

“Our parents are running against each other for the presidency Harry.” Niall sighs. “It wouldn’t be right. It would be a conflict of interest.”

“What if it wasn’t?” Harry asks. “What- What if I’ve been working on a plan since that night so we could be together?”

“What plan?” Niall asks him.

“We both know my mother is going to walk out of here the winner tonight Niall.” Harry says quietly. “And I know you think I’m just a playboy with no idea how this all works, but you’re wrong. I’ve been planting the idea in her head of having Bobby run as her Vice President. She’s decided to offer it to him when she wins the nomination. She thinks it’s her idea, but it isn’t.”

“Why?” Niall asks. “Why would you do that? What makes you think my father would accept that position?”

“Because I’ve done some digging, and I know about his promise to your mother. I know that he’d nominate her for one of the spots opening up on the Supreme Court if he wins this. My mother is willing to give him first pick when a spot opens up.” Harry explains. “And as for why, I think that’s obvious Niall.”

“It isn’t.” Niall mutters.

“I already told you Niall. I care about you.” Harry says gently, tilting Niall’s chin up to press their lips together. It doesn’t have any of the drunken passion that it did that night a month ago, but it does get the same tingling warmth to spread throughout Niall’s body until it feels like every hair on Niall’s body is standing on end. His hand is soft on Niall’s cheek, keeping him steady as their lips work languidly against each other when Niall’s last pitiful defenses finally break.

“Bug, are you in- Oh hell!” comes a high pitched groan behind them. Niall recognizes the voice immediately as belonging to Harry’s older sister, and Niall’s rival Chief of Staff and Harvard alumnus, Gemma Styles. “Really you two? Here? Now?”

“Fuck!” Niall hisses, breaking the kiss to bury his face in his hands to hide the angry red staining his cheeks.

“Gems, can you give us a minute?” Harry huffs.

“One.” Gemma sighs. “But we need you. Mom is doing an interview in a few minutes and she wants the whole family there for it. Don’t fuck up your hair.”

“Wasn’t planning on that until later.” Harry chuckles. “I’ll be there in time. Don’t you go worrying or you’ll ruin all the hard work the makeup artist has done to make you presentable.”

“Fuck off!” Gemma grunts before exiting.

“You should go Harry.” Niall mumbles, stepping to the side so that his mind is no longer muddled by the brunet’s proximity.

“Not until you admit that you care about me too.” Harry says adamantly.

“So what if I did Harry?” Niall asks. “You- You and I wouldn’t work. You don’t want this life. I do. I want to be the youngest White House Chief of Staff in history. The first openly gay one too. I have dreams. I have goals. You just want a good time, and that’s not me.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to be a politician. I think I could do being a politician’s husband though.” Harry smirks. “I’d get to throw fabulous parties still, and I’d get what I really want, which is to be with you.”

“How many people have you been with since we last saw each other Harry? Five? Ten?” Niall scoffs bitterly.

“None.” Harry tells him. “Ever since- Ever since that night I’ve only wanted you. Nobody else matters anymore.”

“I don’t believe you.” Niall mutters. “Why would you change for me?”

“Because you see me for me.” Harry says softly, reaching forward to lace his fingers though Niall’s. “You’ve been through the same things as I have, and we understand each other because of it. I couldn’t ever find someone who would know me the way you could.”

“You have to get going.” Niall sighs, withdrawing his hand from Harry’s touch. “You have an interview to get to.”

“I’m not leaving until you at least agree that we can pick this up later.” Harry murmurs. “I’m not done with this conversation Niall. I’m not backing down. You’re what I want, and I’ll fight through all of your walls until you see it.”

“We can talk tomorrow.” Niall nods after a moment. “After this has all blown over. But only if you destroy those pictures. I’m not going to agree to anything while you’re blackmailing me.”

“There’s only one picture Niall, and I’d never leak it.” Harry smiles. “It's not even incriminating. You’re sleeping in my arms. Your face isn’t even towards the camera, it’s buried in my neck, so you can’t even tell who it is unless you’re me and already know.”

“Then why go through that whole song and dance?” Niall hisses.

“Because I wanted to see if you actually had the integrity I thought you did.” Harry shrugs. “I wanted to see if you’d threaten me back, or beg, or do exactly what you did, and choose the path that was right for someone else over yourself. I care about you, but that doesn’t mean I’d trust you blindly. You’re a politician after all. Nasty little things the lot of you. Always plotting and scheming and lying. My mother is one of the few decent ones.”

“You’re the one who’s been plotting and scheming and lying!” Niall growls, ignoring the teasing tone in Harry’s voice out of pure indignant rage. “I was perfectly content living my life just the way I was before you came along! You though! You mess everything up in my head! You lie to me! Why the hell should I even show up tomorrow when you’ve been constant trouble for me?”

“Because this thing between us isn’t nothing Niall.” Harry insists, taking a step forward to close the distance between them. Niall hates himself for it, but he doesn’t move away like he knows he should. “I see behind the front you put on. I see who you are underneath all of this. I see the man underneath the monster underneath the mask. I know the truth of who you are. You can’t hide it from me now.”

“It was one night Harry.” Niall huffs.

“That was enough for me to see your soul.” Harry whispers in Niall’s ear, dragging his thumb over the blond’s bottom lip before he adds “I’ll text you an address and a time for you to meet me at tomorrow. Be there Niall. No matter what happens tonight, no matter who wins, be there.”

Niall doesn’t say anything, doesn’t react at all outwardly no matter how hard his heart is slamming against the inside of his ribs, threatening to break free and leap right into Harry’s hands. Harry walks out after dropping his fingers to trace over the necklace one last time. Not so much as a ‘Good bye’ falls from his lips, and Niall finds a small bit of relief in that. He’s not ready for good bye yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were intrigued this and want me to write more, including what happened between Niall and Harry before the story, then let me know here or on tumblr, and if enough people want that then I'll consider expanding this from a drabble into a full fic. The other boys would show up eventually too. Louis would be a journalist. Liam is a young and impressionable staffer. Zayn is basically Olivia Pope.
> 
> Fun Fact: the Executive Residence of New Hampshire, aka the Governor's Mansion, is called the Bridges House because it was donated by former New Hampshire Governor and United States Senator, (I'm not kidding, this is his name. You can look it up.) Styles Bridges (Which I had no idea about when I started writing this because I've never even been to the east coast, let alone the New Hampshire Executive Residence and isn't that a cool little bit of serendipity?). So when Niall says that Harry lives in Bridges House, he's referring to the fact that, within the story, Anne is the Governor of New Hampshire.


End file.
